Sunday, January 31 - The Druid - Edmonton
Tuesday, February 2 - New City Comedy Olympics - Edmonton
Saturday, February 13 - Get Yo' Heart On Comedy Night at The Common - Edmonton
Saturday, March 20 - OSCW One Year Anniversary
Less than 24 hours after telling Captain Hammer I was absolutely, positively, without-any-question sick, tired, and done with the bar scene, I found myself dancing delightedly with Dawn Dumont and a comic-in-training in a bar I never knew existed to a Russian-language version of OSCW champion Eclipse's entrance theme.
It's been that kind of a weekend.
Seriously. A lot of things have happened over the last couple days, and the one thing they've all had in common is that it was in the complete opposite direction of what I expected--and in some cases--intended. And in some cases, when I adapted and changed my mind to the NEW circumstance, that new circumstance took another unexpected turn.
Nothing has become predictable anymore. I no longer know what is going to happen.
Back to the bar. It was the same as any other club, but somehow the fact that everyone there was Russian made it novel and new. They are expressive dancers those Russians. And very tall. Tall, blocky men. Tall, slender--and very beautiful--women, a sizable percentage of whom were unquestionably off-duty strippers (*). I wonder how Slavic rappers talk about their "shorties," when their "shorties" are five-ten.
And of course Dawn.
There's no way I can really write about the chemistry Dawn and I have when it comes to our friendship--just the right combination of funny and supportive. A former boyfriend of hers was jealous at how well we got along (a story I often make her retell, partly for the self-esteem boost, and partly because she tells it with funny voices).
And there we were--a Native American woman and the guy whose only experience with Eastern Bloc culture was playing the part of "Soviet Goal Judge" in the acclaimed film "Sure-Shot Dombrowski."
We danced. We fell in love with our own reflections in the bar's mirrored walls. We made fun of Russians ("Was it hurtful when Tom Cruise gave you the finger in Top Gun?"). We lost and found her cell phone. We screamed along with everybody else when the DJ stopped the music (On purpose or Russian technology?)and everybody in the bar sang the chorus even though we had no idea what we were saying.
Simple things. Little things. Things that can only made better and more hilarious by a soundtrack of Russian-language hip-hop.
Who could ask for anything more?
(*)You know what seeing strippers doing normal dancing in a normal club reminds me of? Being a kid and seeing your teacher at the grocery store. It's kind of a surreal feeling. It's like: Fantasy Object, what are YOU doing out here in the real world?